


Sober Reflection

by ewonder2001



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-13
Updated: 2006-03-13
Packaged: 2019-02-02 05:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12720792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewonder2001/pseuds/ewonder2001
Summary: This short fic is for Amy. SG-1 get drunk and end up examining Daniel's destiny through the quantum mirror.





	Sober Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the archivists: this story was originally archived at [The Alpha Gate](https://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Alpha_Gate), a Stargate SG-1 archive, which began migration to the AO3 in 2017 when its hosting software, eFiction, was no longer receiving support. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are this creator and it hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Alpha Gate collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/thealphagate).

I never knew that there could be days like this. Days when you feel so stupid you want to lock yourself away and inform others by email that your office has been declared an intellect-free zone. Not that I know whether I have an office in this reality. Maybe I just sit in Jack's office and massage his feet, playing the "little woman". 

Okay, that was the sort of sexist remark that shows how fuzzy my brain is. It's all Sam's fault. Never ever get drunk with an astrophysicist. They play with your head in ways that reshape your physical universe. And that's without taking into account that you're drunk, you try to translate what they're saying into hieroglyphics. 

I should never have had that first drink. In fact, I should never have accepted the invitation in the first place. 

"We're breaking into Area 51," said Jack, striding through my office door and practically draping himself across my desk. There's relaxed and then there's plain rude. 

"Why?" I demanded. 

"Daniel's testy," shouted Jack to someone outside the door. 

"I am not testy, Jack," I snapped, trying to rescue an ankh from sweaty O'Neill fingers. I don't like people playing with my toys. Only child and all that. 

"Daniel's fucking testy!" 

In rescuing the ankh, my papers, and a precarious cup of coffee from the colonel poured all over my desk, I got a strong whiff of alcohol. Jack had been drinking on the base. That didn't seem possible. 

I leaned over to take a closer sniff. Jack giggled -- actually giggled -- into my mouth. We were so close that we could have been kissing, and I swear he looked as if he was about to put his arms around me. 

"You know," said a cool voice from the door, "there must be realities in which you guys are fucking." 

I gaped at Sam in disbelief. She looked pretty straight, though I noticed she was leaning against the door at an odd angle. Almost as if it were keeping her upright rather than providing a casual support. The open whiskey bottle in her hand was a bit of a clue. 

"I'm dreaming," I said, thoroughly confused. 

"Colonel," said Sam, her eyes twinkling, "give Daniel a pinch. See if he's dreaming." 

O'Neill guffawed and pinched my ass. Hard. 

A yelp didn't seem a sufficient response, so I punctuated it with a smack on the thigh that he wouldn't soon forget. Shit. It looked as if he enjoyed that. He actually wriggled and leered at me. 

"What's going on? It's not April Fool's day is it?" 

I thought it was still February but I lose track of time. 

"No, it's not," said Sam. She kinda slid down the doorframe till her ass was planted firmly on my office floor. 

"Come in and shut the door," I said, terrified that some major or other would walk past and see her in that condition. 

"Shall I come in also, DanielJackson?" 

I grabbed Teal'c's arm and pulled him into the room, nudging Sam to slump against the wall instead of the door. 

"We can have a party," said Jack, still reclining on my desk and grinning like a satyr. "Where's the bottle, Carter?" 

"Right here, sir," said Sam, surging to her knees and waving the bottle in a way that entirely failed to transfer it to Jack. I snagged it out of her hand and was about to hand it on when it occurred to me that giving it to Jack in his current state was maybe not such a good idea. 

"Piss or get off the pot," said Jack irritably. I knew what he meant instantly and took a good long swallow, straight from the bottle. Fuck. And I had a decent set of glasses stored in my cabinet. Being around Jack makes me act like him, sometimes. 

The whiskey burnt a trail down my throat and warmed my gut. I like whiskey. It's a serious drink to share with friends. 

"So," I said, sitting on the floor next to Sam and looking up at Jack, "what's going on?" 

Jack groped himself casually and rearranged his long legs. Very long, from where I was sitting. I recalled Sam's comment about fucking and felt myself starting to blush. It was the liquor, of course, bringing a burn to my cheeks as well as my gut. I took another swallow and awaited enlightenment. 

"They're shutting us down for the week," said Jack. "The Pentagon's doing some risk assessment of our operation." 

"Risk assessment?" I asked, really worried that Jack was at risk of falling off my desk. 

There wasn't much whiskey left in the bottle, and I decided to reduce the threat it posed to my team mates by disposing of some more of it. They were career military and Teal'c had a symbiote inside him, whereas I could drink freely and get nothing more than a slap on the wrist for it. No irritated symbiote or generals in my immediate future. Besides, I was starting to feel a pleasant buzz. 

"'S okay," said Jack. "Davis gave it to me. `We're evaluating you for risk, Colonel O'Neill,' he said with that Washington oiliness. `Why don't you go have a drink and forget about us for a while.'" 

"What did General Hammond say?" I asked. 

"He offered me a glass." 

I had to ask. "Where's the glass?" 

"Davis might find his bed a bit uncomfortable tonight. Hope he sleeps bare butt." 

Jack's leer had become a bit psychopathic. I took another gulp of whiskey and passed the bottle into his outstretched hand. Our fingers touched briefly. Luckily, mine were getting too numb to feel it. 

"What kind of risk, O'Neill?" asked Teal'c. 

"Fucked if I know," replied Jack, swiping his hand across his lips to catch stray drops of liquor. 

"Fucking," said Sam, nodding at last. "That's what I'm talking about. Dannieeel." Having dragged my name out for thirty seconds, Sam rested her head on my shoulder. 

I knew I was going to regret this. "Yes, Sam?" 

" **You** ," she said, "are sober enough to drive." 

I was too buzzed to deny it. "Yup. Where we going?" 

"Area 51." 

Jack started to guffaw again, not stopping even when Teal'c grabbed him round the waist and dragged him to his feet. 

"Why?" I asked. 

"To prove a point," said Sam, wagging her finger in my face. "To test a theory. Scientist here." No arguing with that as I held her up. "Hypothesis there." She poked my chest. I looked at Jack, grinning at me over Teal'c's shoulder, looking like a grey-haired devil. I wondered if Sam would notice that my nipples were erect. 

"What's your theory?" I asked as Teal'c tried to steady Jack, who seemed to be heading for me as if we were in the cafetaria and I was lunch. Jack never just stood in line, he always got in the server's face and extorted the best possible portions. It's strange, feeling like a lamb chop. I kind of liked it. 

"Quantum mirror," slurred Sam. "There's like a billion, billion possibilities. And I reckon, that if we scrolled through enough of them, there'd be ones where you and I were fucking." She tried to plant a kiss on my mouth that ended up on my left nipple. "And there's ones where Jack -- scuse me -- Colonel Asshole, and me are fucking. And then, there's ones where you and Jack are fucking. Question is -- question fucking is -- which one is **this** reality? Cos, Dannnieeeel, I have no fucking idea." 

I had never heard Sam use the word fuck before. She should never ever drink, I decided, virtuously finishing the whiskey to save her from further embarrassment. 

"Hold O'Neill upright, DanielJackson, while I check that the seashore is free." 

"Coast," I spluttered, receiving 180 pounds of drunk colonel in my arms, dislodging Sam who swayed and went down like a puppet with the strings cut. "Coast is rear. I mean clear." 

I clutched Jack to hold him up. He clutched me right back, taking a good hold of my ass and squeezing hard. "You. Me. Fucking. Mirror." 

Astrophysics is bunkum. I've often thought so. But every now and then, I like to test one of Sam's theories. Besides, no one needed us for a week. Might as well pay a visit to Area 51. At the time, with whiskey sloshing in my gut and Jack plastered all over me, it seemed like a good idea. 

I know. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Say it any language you like, it means the same thing.

* * *

Every now and then, it's handy knowing a grateful president. Apparently, we'd saved the earth enough times to have a standing order admitting us to any military installation in the country. That must have made Maybourne mad as hell. I didn't even know where Area 51 was, of course, but Sam gave directions while Teal'c sat with Jack in the back. If a hand snaked through from the backseat to grab my crotch, Teal'c would always snatch it back again. Eventually. 

Sam never stopped expounding her theory, all the way to Area 51. The only time she wasn't talking was when she was swigging brandy from the bottle in Jack's secret stash under her seat. I only listened to about one word in ten. It was a bit distracting to spend the entire trip trying to drive with someone else's hand on your cock. The hand was Jack's most of the time, but sometimes it was Sam's. Once or twice, it was so big and blunt that it had to be Teal'c's. As Sam put it, the possibilities were endless. 

"You see," lectured professor Carter, "it comes down to this. One of us is gonna have you." 

"Yup. Have you," echoed Jack. 

"It is certainly so, DanielJackson." 

"Only, we don't know which is **meant** to be. So, we thought, if we could see how it goes in most other universes, we'd know. You know. Which of us you're meant to be with." 

I thought I might bust out of my pants. They all wanted me. It was not without its awkward side, but quite flattering all the same. 

"But I love all you guys," I protested, sharing Sam's brandy. Besides, I could see the flaw in Sam's theory. Well, one of the flaws. There were at least fifty. "We don't believe in destiny. It doesn't matter who's doing whom in other realities. All that matters is this one. And how we -- you know -- feel about each other." 

"Who makes ya hard, Danny?" demanded the colonel, trying to get through the seats to join me in the front. Teal'c wrestled him back but clearly couldn't stop his tongue, which was making friends with my ears and neck. "That's the only feeling that matters." 

Shivers ran up and down my spine as Jack nibbled on my skin. Carter squirmed in the seat next to me. Every time I took my eyes off the road, she had hers fixed on me with one of those earnest looks. 

"We all love you, Daniel. Sort of. We could all be in love with you, if this goes on much longer. But you're blind. You never see anything. So we have to find out. In the mirror." 

"Sam," I said honestly, "that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard." 

Oh no. The hurt Sam look. "Experiments are good," I added hastily. "Empirical evidence. Yes. Besides, we'll never get in there. They must have tighter security than Fort Knox." 

Imagine my surprise when they waved us through, Teal'c holding O'Neill up and practically moving his legs for him. 

"Colonel O'Neill is sick," explained Sam, looking very angelic, to a hulking guard with a submachine gun. "We need the thingy device stored on level fifteen to, you know, heal him." 

"Go through, ma'am," nodded the guard. "Major Davis is expecting you." 

"Major Fucking Davis?" snapped Jack, trying to get away from Teal'c to do something, no doubt a violent something, to the guard. 

"Er, no, sir. Major Paul Davis." The guard was puzzled but didn't seem overly concerned. 

"Carry on, sergeant," said Sam, a haughty sniff covering the slight stumble as she weaved her way through the checkpoint and into the base. We must have seemed a strange party, with Jack making constant lunges at me, Teal'c steering him and giving him the occasional punch, and Sam trying to walk in a straight line and failing dismally. I, of course, gave the appearance of sanity and total sobriety. Except for the half-empty bottle of brandy in my hand. 

"It's for medicinal purposes," I assured Major Davis, who was smiling at me oddly. 

"Of course it is. For Colonel O'Neill. Before he gets healed by the thingy on level fifteen, I expect." 

The major seemed to have an uncanny grasp of the situation. Sam looked at him suspiciously. "Not you too?" she demanded, more than a hint of accusation in her voice. 

"Let's just say that I'm interested in hearing what destiny has to say." 

Ouch. If anyone else pinched my butt, I'd be black and blue. 

"How'd you get here before us?" demanded Jack, groping for a gun in his empty holster. 

"By chopper." Paul's smile was modest. I wondered whose budget that little trip came out of. 

"This is silly," I said to Paul. "But at least we're..." I lowered my voice to a whisper "...drunk. What's your excuse?" 

Davis leaned in to hear me, provoking an outraged bellow from Jack. 

"MajorCarter," said Teal'c. "We should proceed with the mission and acquire our target." 

"Who we here to kill?" asked Jack, staring hopefully at Davis. 

"This way," said Paul, leading our sorry troop through the sterile military corridors towards a central elevator shaft. When the doors of the elevator closed on us, Jack managed to pin me to the wall and rub his butt against my cock so hard and fast that I was worried I would come in my pants. I didn't want to meet my destiny with wet pants. I shoved him away and kept drinking the brandy, sure that this was just some weird dream and I'd be waking up soon enough. 

When we exited the lift, the temperature plunged and it was suddenly freezing. I felt cold and stupid, hunting for an artefact from another world with four people who said they wanted to have sex with me. For one brave moment, I wanted to take them all on and bury my feelings in a closet forever. 

"It's in aisle 30," said Major Davis, checking the inventory on the computer. He must have access to a whole lot of secrets, I thought. Would ours be safe with him? 

Despite the chill and my growing nervousness, it was almost fun to prowl through the stacks of artefacts. It felt like the old days in the bowels of the university library, before Jack and the whole crazy ride of the stargate. 

"Over here," called Sam, almost falling through the mirror in her drunken attempts to uncover it. 

"Stay back from that," ordered Davis. "I have the control device." 

"You would," said Sam, squaring off against him. Any minute now, they were going to wrestle, I could tell. 

"Mirror mirror, on the wall, who's the queerest of us all?" declaimed Jack, before laughing so hard he fell over. I surveyed him wheezing on the ground and questioned my own sanity. Not for the first time. 

"Look," said Davis. 

The mirror had sprung into life. It could have graced any New Age living room, except for the fact that the scene it was showing was no reflection. We watched as it flicked from place to place under Davis' direction, a succession of dreary scenes in which the mirror showed us other bunkers and empty rooms. Occasionally, people were standing nearby and called or beckoned to us. When I saw myself for the first time, I shivered. Thank god for Jack's comforting hand, gripping my neck possessively. And to think, I'd bet he couldn't get up again. He was well and truly up, though, as he ground his cock against my ass. Only two layers of thin cloth separated us. Unless he happened to be wearing underwear. I know **I** wasn't. 

"Stop there," said Sam. Two figures were kissing in the shadows. We couldn't make them out clearly, until Jack roared "fuck this", grabbed me, and hauled me through the mirror. 

"Um, hello," I said, shakily, to the man now holding a gun on me. 

"Daniel?" he demanded, stepping out of the shadows. 

It was Jack. Not the same Jack that was groping my ass, of course, but Jack nonetheless. 

Interdimensional travel by quantum mirror is painless. You don't feel a thing. Why, then, did I feel like I'd been punched in the gut when the other figure stepped out of the shadows? 

It was me. I was the one who'd been doing all that kissing. With Jack. 

"Did you just step out of that device?" the other me demanded, practically shaking with excitement. 

"Um, Daniel, threat assessment," reminded Mirror O'Neill, grasping his Daniel by the scruff of the neck and dragging him back. 

"Hey, go easy on him," said my Jack, leaping to my -- er, his -- defence. 

"I have no intention of going easy on him," said the other Jack, putting his arms around Daniel and leering at us. "I'm gonna fuck him half to death." 

"Hey, no sex off world. That's the rule!" 

My colonel's outrage would have been more convincing if he weren't dry humping me. Maybe it's having our clothes on that made the difference. The other Jack and Daniel were naked. I should have mentioned that earlier. Jack still had his boots on, and a P-90 in his hands. Otherwise, these two men were clearly having sex in a deserted chamber on an alien world. Was this my destiny? 

"I hope you'll have enough class to take your boots off," I snapped over my shoulder. 

"I like it when he keeps his boots on," said Daniel. Even in the dim light, I could tell that he was blushing. By the looks of him, he had nothing to blush about. 

"I like to lick his boots." 

Okay, plenty to blush about. "This is **so** not me," I said to Jack. 

"You wanna lick my boots, Danny?" 

"You can lick **my** boots," offered the other Jack. 

"Hey," said his Daniel. "You're mine." It was a possessive growl, and suddenly the P-90 was in another set of hands. I decided to re-evaluate the submissiveness of this particular version of me. 

And that's where we came in, really. Me wondering whether I was Jack's little woman, and starting to feel altogether too sober. Not to mention sexist. I hoped Sam couldn't read my mind from several realities away. 

But where do we go from here?

* * *

Click. 

Jack laid Daniel down on the desk in his office and kissed him, growling quietly in his throat. The hum of it seemed to delight Daniel, who pressed so hard against Jack it looked as if he was trying to climb inside his skin. 

"I want you," groaned Daniel, before nipping at Jack's lips. "I want you inside me." 

Jack gave a low, throaty laugh, and swung Daniel's legs into the air effortlessly. They came to rest on Jack's shoulders as if they'd been there forever. When Jack pushed his big cock slowly in Daniel's ass, they both moaned as if the pleasure-pain of it would kill them. A few gentle thrusts and Jack was all the way in. Then he started to fuck Daniel, his hips pounding steadily, almost pushing Daniel off the desk. 

"Kiss me," ordered Daniel. 

The colonel obeyed, lowering his head to possess Daniel's mouth the way he was possessing his ass, hard and fast. 

When Daniel came, Jack bent over almost double to lick it off the hard planes of his stomach, still pounding away inside him without missing a beat. 

"I love you," said Daniel, writhing on the table, slipping in his own sweat.

* * *

Click. 

Jack and Daniel made out in the dark storage room of Area 51 as if they did it all the time. A few stolen kisses deepened into a frenzy. Jack was licking Daniel's face and moaning, tears sliding down his cheeks. 

"I want you, Daniel. God, how I want you." 

"We can't Jack. You know that. It's not safe." 

"Daniel." 

The two men devoured each other but their eyes never ceased to roam, wary and anxious.

* * *

Click. 

"Fuck me, Daniel." 

The hoarse moan came from behind the storage stacks. It was followed by the slap of flesh on flesh, the wet sounds of love. 

"I love you, Jack."

* * *

Click. 

We stepped back through the mirror to our own reality. We had watched a hundred scenes with the other Jack and Daniel, private from the eyes of the rest of our team. In thirty of them, we were fucking. Jack called it love but I'm not so sure. There's certainly something between us. I felt it in the heavy weight of his eyes on me, almost like a hand, and the low, soft buzz that energises me when he's around. Tonight, for the first time, I realised what it was. 

"Where have you been?" Sam sounded frightened and mad, in that order. "You were out of sight and the mirror started shifting. I thought we'd never get you back." 

"Relax, Carter. We're fine." 

Jack was smug, his hand on my ass. 

I've never been fucked before. The night is still young and I plan to remedy that. 

"Let's go home," I said, putting my free arm around Sam, and leaving Teal'c to bring up the rear with Major Davis. In one of the realities, Teal'c was showing the major a very good time. I felt decidedly sappy about it. You see, tonight I'm going to make love to Colonel Jack O'Neill, and nothing can make me feel bad. We're doing it in every other reality we cropped up in, so I vote we make it universal. Only, I'm going to do it in comfort in a bed, and not hang around in front of the mirror for any pervert with a passing interest to spy on. 

"I think I love you," I whispered in Jack's ear. 

"Space monkey," he whispered back, a filthy grin lighting up his face. 

I wanted him then and there. It was going to be a long drive back to Colorado Springs. 

"Major Davis," shouted O'Neill, oblivious of any audience in the admittedly dark and deserted corridors of Area 51. "How's that risk assessment going?" 

"All taken care of," said Paul smoothly. I couldn't see Teal'c's hands any more, but I sure knew a Jaffa erection when I saw one, tenting the front of Teal'c's uniform in a very impressive way. "You'll be back in business tomorrow." 

Jack sniggered and steered me up, out of Area 51, towards the light.


End file.
